The bike had been slung to the back of the garage many years ago. The guy hadn't even bothered to clean the mud off when it'd seized up. He wanted a hundred notes but I bargained him down to sixty quid. No point throwing money away, was there?
The SP was a tall, thin and light bike that fitted neatly in the back of my mate's pick-up. The kids were set to work with a couple of wire-brushes and tin of Gunk. Child exploitation? You've got to be kidding, they're motorcycle maniacs, impossible to keep them off the old wreck! I promised them some lessons when they were older.
All the cycle parts and frame were taken down to the bare metal. The engine was stripped down, a piston ring gummed up in its groove; the bore revived with a honing tool attached to my Black & Decker. The only new part I had to buy was the piston ring! The crankshaft was in perfect nick, the cam-lobes only mildly scruffed.
New cables were made up with my kit, secondhand tyres fitted to the large and narrow rims and the small drum brakes cleaned out (the shoes still had plenty of meat). New oil, a complete tune-up and a used battery I had to hand, plus the obligatory respray from my electric spray gun - you can get a good finish if you work at it but the nozzle can become all gunged up.
And the final touch, the rusted out exhaust patched up with the welding gun - easy to melt the whole thing if the metal's gone too thin. If you can do most of the work yourself, the cost of a complete rebuild need not be great. And it's a good lesson for the kids to see that an old wreck can be revived rather than merely chucked in the nearest canal or skip. A dose of harsh reality never did me any harm, anyway.
The great day dawned. The Suzuki didn't want to come to life until I'd heated up the spark plug and nearly wore out my knee on the kickstart. With the almost straight through exhaust, she came to life with a lovely blare that set off my neighbour's house alarm and had his Dobberman in a veritable frenzy. As I'd had to build an eight foot wall to keep the beast out of my garden, I smiled in revenge. The top end rattled heavily and there was a little bit of blue smoke out of the silencer, but the motor soon settled down to a gentle tickover.
The first ride was pretty weird. The frame felt a bit bent, or something, but in the end I figured it was just the trail geometry and sheer lightness of the bike - I was putting too much input into the bars, causing it to career off too heavily. The engine needed a bit of revving to shift, seemed about equal to the milder four stroke 250 twins up to 75mph. Thereafter, it gasped rather than ran strongly but then it was an old, tired motor that had seen better days. Almost like its rider, sad to say!
After becoming used to its ways, I decided the bike was ideal for throwing through the heavy Brum traffic. The front brake wasn't really up to the job, but it had cost so little that even if I hit something it wouldn't be a major disaster. It turned in a reasonable 70mpg and didn't seem to wear out any of its consumables over the next 9000 miles. Starting was often frustrating and it'd sometimes stall when waiting at junctions and refuse to go bang-bang for a good ten minutes! Luckily, there were never any big hammers to hand or I would've done for it.
Then, in the summer of 1996, I decided a bit of off-road work would be fun. My mate had a DR350, knew the score. So it happened that I found myself charging down a dirt track at about 40mph, trying to keep the bastard in sight. I was thinking that the rough stuff wasn't that hard to master when the track swerved - lumbering out of the bend with the back wheel trying to come around to the front, I spied a rather large fallen tree in my path.
Snapping the SP upright, I saw that there was a thick branch I could whiz up and then launch myself off the top of the trunk. Piece of piss, thought I. The next thing I knew I had the SP in my lap, embedded as I was deep in the tree's foliage. The branch was so slippery that the SP had just flipped off the side of it! My mate found the whole thing absolutely hilarious but he stopped the laughter long enough to pull the suddenly heavy Suzuki off me. As I'd broken its fall, the bitch was without injury. After that I gave up on the rough adventures, not wanting to break either my bones or the SP's chassis.
A little while after that near disaster, the SP began to smoke heavily. The exhaust valve's rocker was a funny shape. I couldn't find a cheap replacement, so had it built up with weld and machined. As an OHC thumper it's pretty easy to work on and service, but all the components appeared heavily stressed, not helped by quite a lot of vibration that was directly proportional to the revs. One reason the fuel was so good was that there wasn't an engine balancer - my mate's DR350 was doing 45mpg at similar kinds of speeds!
The trail side of the bike was a bit of a pain on the road. The guards didn't keep the crud off the rider, the seat height left me splattered in the cold and wet, and the knobbly tyres squirmed on slippery road surfaces, but as it was a cheap hack I wasn't too keen on actually spending any money on it. My spray job, by then, was showing signs of peeling paint and emerging rust, whilst all the original alloy was well gone with the grey rot. I didn't have that much faith in the longevity of the motor, the clock reading 41,500 miles. Run it into the ground, thought I.
Some three months later it seized up solid, just over 45000 miles under its wheels. Not bad going. I pulled the motor out to have a look at the damage, but this time the main bearings were loose as well as large grooves in the bore. The once slick gearbox had also gone as bad as a new Honda's, which turned out to be slightly bent selectors. All in all, there wasn't much left in the engine that could be salvaged.
The brake shoes were finally down to the rivets, the final drive chain had about a two-thirds of the intended links and the knobblies were showing their carcass! I hadn't replaced any of them, was quite surprised by their survival. The rust on the cycle parts wasn't that deep
At this point, one of the kids bought a banana shaped GS125. He hinted that with a bit of work, someone with my renown talents for bodging, could combine the two! I demurred until I worked out that it was a lot cheaper than buying the lad a bike to learn on, and then it could be passed down the family as they came of an age.
The SP's long stroke engine takes up a lot more space than the compact GS125's but it wasn't too much work to fit the latter into the trailster's frame. Patched up the paint, another set of used tyres, new brake shoes and chain/sprocket set had the bugger all set for the road.
It just showed how worn the old SP's engine had become, up to 60mph I couldn't find much difference in the performance of the new 125cc engined hack, though I'd tweaked it a little bit by jetting up to suit its straight thru silencer and open carb...it's so useful I'm not sure I want to hand it over to my son when he's 17.
Tony Bell
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This affair with an SP400 began when I required a cheap way of commuting to work. A Honda C50 might've been the sensible way to go but a reasonable SP came up in the local paper before I had a chance to buy one. A few cosmetic bits were missing off the 1980 model (this being 1989) but it sounded good and nearly looped the loop when I gave it a bit of throttle on an enthusiastic take-off. The deal was done.
I should say that my only previous big bike was a Honda CB250 Superdream, so just about any motorcycle would've been an improvement. The SP400 has a pretty basic engine with only a kickstart for starting. There's an automatic decompressor built into the head, but it didn't help much, it still needed a hefty kick. The kickstart was perfectly placed for a seven foot giant but I often came close to falling over in a heap. Starting was an acquired art that I eventually mastered after about two months.
The other unexpected nastiness was the gearchange which became reluctant to engage any gears beyond third. Adjusting the chain helped slightly but it still needed an ultra slow action with a fifty-fifty chance of ending up in a false neutral. Power wasn't the seamless lunge of energy that old codgers raved about (on British singles) but almost up to the level of blandness attained by the Superdream. It needed much throttle and gearbox action to move reasonably, but the gearbox wasn't up to that. I began to suspect that the 19,400 miles on the mileometer was a blatant falsehood.
It wasn't all bad. The SP was ideally set up for hacking through Manchester traffic. Long travel suspension dealt with the road ruts whilst the trail biased steering geometry meant that virtually no effort was needed to twirl the SP through the cars. The initial feeling of low speed top heaviness soon dissipated, it was really just the lightness of the steering making it appear mildly twitchy. The 75mpg fuel economy brought a smile to my face, although the small petrol tank meant that the range was poor.
Two things spoilt town riding for me. The first was the tiny SLS front drum that refused to work with any efficiency. I know proponents of drum brakes proclaim improved efficiency in the wet due to superior feel, but this didn't work for the SP as both drums filled up with water! They became completely naff then. Engine braking was useful but I often had to career around obstacles rather than chance my life to the brakes. The shoes still had plenty of life so I just had to suffer them.
The other bit of piggery was the way the engine would stall dead at low revs for no apparent reason. With the awkwardly placed kickstart this left me in some very precarious situations. A new spark plug every 500 miles solved it but only after I'd tried a couple of other remedies to no effect. I thought I'd stumbled on the cure when I found the carb full of crud but it just made starting slightly easier after I'd cleaned it out.
I'd also found that the exhaust valve was miles out but, again, the engine just carried on running as before. Good for about 90mph flat out, it would cruise at 70 to 80mph if I didn't mind getting into a contorted riding position. The whole thing waltzed on suspension that lacked damping above 60mph, so I was happy enough to keep to town riding.
Just as well, as the front headlamp was fickle and only had enough light to indicate that I was coming. Blown bulbs from the vibes that the thumper gave out were sadly not a rarity. The engine had not a balancer in sight but the vibration was no worse than a knackered Superdream (which had two chain driven balancers). At least I didn't have to bother with the monthly Superdream chore of adjusting the balance chain tensioner.
I became quite enamoured of the SP despite its many faults. The bike still looked quite butch, sounded lovely with its thumper burble and ran rings around most other traffic in town. This easy manoeuvrability often made me forget myself, slogging along through the traffic gaps like some young hoodlum. It responded much quicker to inputs than the Superdream.
It took about three months and 1500 miles before something went wrong. The kickstart ratchet broke, the only way the SP would start was with a back breaking bump. The local back street merchant found the bits in a breaker and fitted them for 25 quid, so it wasn't an expensive proposition. During the four weeks when all I could do was run and leap on the SP I realised how unfit I had become. Too much beer in the evenings had done for me. I soon got back to the beer when the bike was fixed.
The next little hurdle was the MOT test. I thought it might fail on the brakes but instead some tiny holes in the exhaust system were its downfall. It was the original system, albeit in matt black and rust. I know how finicky Japanese bikes can be about exhausts, so didn't really want to experiment by shoving on a different silencer. The MOT tester offered to weld it up for £15, which was either kind of him or a bit of a rip-off, but I gave in. I couldn't think of a cheaper way of fixing it. Within a month more holes appeared but I didn't replace it until nearly ten months later.
Another four months of playful abuse went by with nothing more than normal maintenance. Then I noticed that the exhaust valve was going wildly out of adjustment. Soon, if it was tightening up every day, a terrible hammering noise was given off. The hardening on the rocker had worn through. By the time I replaced it one half of the rocker had almost disappeared and there were deep score marks in the camshaft lobe. I got lucky with a whole cylinder head from breaker for £15. Yep, parts up here are a hell of a lot cheaper than down south. I had a peak at the bore whilst I was at it, but it looked like new.
About a week after the engine was rebuilt, I was throwing the bike through the traffic in my normal, exuberant manner, when there was a large explosion and the back wheel locked up solid. The drive chain had snapped. I knew I shouldn't have kept taking links out of it, but the SP was very heavy on chains and I was too mean to keep buying it a new one every 6000 miles. After pushing the bike five miles I had learnt my lesson the hard way.
The chain apart, it was very cheap to run. Frugal on fuel, the brake shoes, perhaps because they didn't work well, never seemed to wear and the cheap trail tyres I threw on lasted 15 to 18000 miles. Even the oil level stayed constant between 1500 mile changes. The bike spent most of its life in town, out of town work might've been harder on consumables but it is basically a light, low powered motorcycle so there's no real excuse for conspicuous consumption.
For the next year and half, about 18000 miles (the speedo cables snap quite frequently so exact mileages are not possible), the SP ran like it manufacturer had intended with only a few minor bits replaced. That put more than 40,000 miles on the clock, which the engine took as a sign to demand a new camchain and tensioner. The Suzuki dealer was suitably amused that such an old bike was still running, but the bits were in my grimy hands within the week. Don't know who was more surprised, myself or the dealer.
I celebrated by giving the frame and tank a respray, rust having become their predominant feature. Bright red on both looked the business but showed up the rest of the bike, especially the rusted wheel spokes. Matt black paint helped; a little and only for a while. The addition of a big handlebar fairing, courtesy of the breaker, did wonders for my circulation in deepest, darkest winter. I even rode the bike on snow and ice covered roads!
Time and mileage finally caught up with the Suzuki at around 50,000 miles. The engine knocked like a pile-driver, the exhaust smoked like a stroker in its death-throes and almost every bearing in the chassis suddenly realised they were into serious overtime without pay.
I didn't begrudge the bike its symptoms of old age. Far from it, the SP had given splendid service for longer than I'd expected. It had, after all, only cost a few hundred quid and saved me a bundle compared with using a car or public transport. I was so impressed, I bought a low mileage example of its successor - a DR350. The SP isn't dead yet, it's in a hundred bits awaiting its resurrection.
H.L.J.
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The biggest hassle I had with the Suzuki SP400 was starting. There's only a kickstart, and although there's a sight-glass and automatic decompressor valve, the technique requires a strong right leg and lots of practice. As with many thumpers, the engine cutting out at low revs adds to the starting chores. I've been known to cause long queues of cars whilst I forced the wee beastie back into life.
The SP's the kind of bike the British industry might've ended up building if they had the means, a sort of modern BSA Victor. There's very little to it, really, a simple OHC thumper without an engine balancer system, housed in a tubular frame that will have any Victor owner filled with nostalgia. Not powerful in the conventional sense (only 30 horses) but nippy on the back of its torque and low mass of 300lbs.
Ideal in town, fine on country roads, the 70mph cruising speed was pushed on the motorway - it'd do 95mph but the vibration was vile. Off-road depended on which tyres I'd fitted. On proper trail tyres it'd growl over most things, pull wheelies at the drop of the clutch and slither through the mud like a rabid dog. It's all a question of balance, once the slight top heavy feel's absorbed then it's a dead easy bike to ride slowly, feet up.
The only thing it really objected to was being immersed in water, when the ignition would play up, causing the engine to cough and me to go mad on the throttle to save it. A waste of time, all that happened was that the back wheel slid away and, regardless, I ended up with a drenching. I always carried a spare spark plug and can of WD40.
Such accessories were also useful on the road when the spray from passing artics could swamp the bike and cause it to cut out. Potentially lethal if the following driver was half asleep. I went over the electrics but could find no obvious fault, it may just be that the 6V system's so basic, so lacking in power, that it's susceptible to passing winds.
A gang of us head for the Welsh hills of a weekend. A weird mixture of screaming strokers, plodding thumpers and the occasional poser on a Paris Dakar replica. The latter have no advantages off road, their weight and power being more of a liability than a blessing. I always take a delight in racing with such chaps, leading them a merry dance that ends with an obstacle course that takes some skill and a lot of cunning to survive.
One poor guy ended up floating 15 feet through the air on his new XT660, landing in a fast flowing river. When the bedraggled rider and ruined bike were finally rescued, the one looked about ready for six months in hospital and the other as if it had really done the Paris Dakar a couple of times. He shook the water off his Barbours and got the XT running again.
Another chap launched himself, and his DR650, into a yard deep hole filled with some kind of foul slurry instead of throwing himself off the top of mound. The monster from the swamp had nothing on this guy and, as far as I know, the DR never ran again. In a race the SP felt fleet of foot and completely controllable, I was master of my own little universe.
The chassis was a tough number, hard to break or bend. All the minor components were well tucked in and even major spills did little damage. In the early days there were quite a lot of them, until I acquired a feel for the machine. Mostly to do with landing on the front rather than on the back wheel. One monster cock-up sent me spiralling over the handlebars, doing a tango with the earth a number of times before I tried to mate with a tree. The SP broke its mirror. I soon learnt the art of trail riding before I broke my spine.
Night riding's always fun, with a poor front light and a lot of dark country roads to arrive at my isolated cottage, often in a drunken haze. Like an old pony I usually find my way home by sheer instinct. Not always. One reason I like this kind of dual purpose bike is that the chances are much improved of surviving running off the tarmac in the dark. Just hang on and scream.
The one time this didn't work was because I hit a wild animal. It was dog sized, lay on its side bleeding where I'd hit it but growling like it wanted to bite my head off. I hobbled back on to the road with the bike and got out of there fast. Back home I found my leg was slashed, my ankle strained and my knee bleeding. Until then my fear of the animal (I think it was a wolf) was so great that I hadn't noticed my injuries.
The SP has many good points that outnumber the bad. Maintenance's minimal and easy to do. Oil and two valves! Fuel's exceptional, 70 to 90mpg. Handling's varies from brilliant in town and off-road, to adequate on fast A-roads. I'm sure all it needs is decent tyres to stop the slight weaves. Its sheer versatility overwhelms all its other virtues.
Engine faults are limited to valvegear that can wear quickly and a weak kickstarter mechanism. The valves go because the oil supply's not brilliant, especially after some gunge has built up in the feed. Changing the oil every 500 miles helps limit the damage to every 15000 miles - it's a simple engine to work on but some threads will strip on the slightest excuse. Bolts that've corroded in will also break off rather than come undone. The Suzuki's much worse than old Hondas in this respect.
Rust hasn't been much of a problem because the previous owner had done a complete chassis renovation, right down to a black coating inside the tank and under the front guard. Very nice of him, too. It was almost a shame to take it off road but in the monsoon season the track to my cottage was a quagmire that would've killed off most rat bikes.
The SP lasted from 8000 to 33000 miles before going knock-knock. I tried to convince myself that it wasn't too serious but my mate who claims to have been a mechanic before the magic mushrooms got to him reckoned it was the good old main bearings. He was right and I ended up doing a full engine strip, new crank bearings, piston and gearbox selectors plus used valve bits. Only took me a week to do a strip and £125, against 600 notes for the original purchase. I knew I'd done a good job because the engine was so quiet compared to all the rattles and knocks of old. I smiled widely at my own cleverness.
That motor has now allowed the bike to do 54000 miles, with the chassis remaining pretty stock. The one thing that really needs changing is the front brake, some pathetic half width drum that I wouldn't like on a moped let alone at 90mph. It was great off-road when I had to lose speed very gradually but the lack of power and fade on the road had me mumbling incantations to myself and hoping that the course in white magic would pay off.
One time, I ended on the wrong side of the road, the suspension all locked up on the brakes, with Joe-Cager open mouthed with fright cowering rather than braking behind the wheel of his Jag. I had mercy on him and the SP, gave the throttle a nudge and rode off the road, straight through a hedge into a muddy field where I fell off. The soft landing stopped any serious injury.
The modern equivalent must be the DR350, with its neat disc brake and even lower mass, although it makes the same power and is less frugal. I'll wait a year or two until the used prices come down to a more reasonable level. The SP still has plenty of life left.
Arnie Glover